Crush
by XLadyRainbowX
Summary: Characters in stories should never keep secrets. The one they love will almost certainly love them back. Zukaang pairing. *Lemons in chapters 3 and 5.* Complete for now, may come back to at a later date.
1. Crazy for Him

**Hello readers. Just a short introduction of myself: I am Lady Rainbow a.k.a JuJu, if you'd rather. I'd like to think of myself as a stereotypical gay man trapped in a woman's body (though I'm not nearly as fabulous as I think I am.) I prewrite all my stories, so I will never be late on an update unless something bad happens (broken computer, carpal tunnel, death, etc.) That's all for here. If you really want to know more for some strange reason, go to my profile.**

**Disclaimer: I, of course, do NOT own Avatar: The Last Airbender. It would be a hot mess if I did, trust me.  
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**Warning: Contains Zukaang pairing. You no like, you no read, ok? Any critique you have on the pairing will be ignored, you will be wasting your time. Later lemon (be patient with me please.)  
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**The story is set before Aang fights Ozai, but I would really like to picture Aang as older otherwise it seems wrong to pair him with Zuko.  
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**And, as always, Enjoy!  
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Zuko:

I watch his breath hitch slightly in his chest as slumber takes him over completely. His lips murmur silent protests against an invisible being, another bad dream. I wonder what about, perhaps my father. My hands trace over his mouth, lingering to part his lips and feel his hot breath on my fingers. Lips I could never kiss, never claim with my own. _But maybe right now, while he lies in the solace of sleep,_ my thoughts contradict my morality. Immediately, I wipe the thought from the darker side of my mind. That side is no longer in control, I won't let it be. Of course, it would have to be consensual. That's part of what makes it an unattainable goal, a fantasy, if you will. Everyone has their crushes, Aang is mine. Oh, how I wish he was mine.

My lips ghost over his forehead, and I whisper a shaky "good night," into his soft skin. _Just until he fell asleep, that's what he said_. I know it's wrong and a bit creepy to stay longer than he wants me to. I pull the blanket up to his chin and get up to leave. His hand finds mine and grasps at it. "Stay," he whispers, trembling now. I look over to see his eyes riddled with half sleep and half terror. I take his hand in both of mine and sit back down. He closes his eyes and drifts off to sleep before I answer with a whispered, "I was hoping you would say that."

The night goes by slowly and for the first hour I refuse to fall asleep next to him. I would much rather take the rare opportunity to watch his eyes move behind their lids, to watch his chest rise and fall, to listen to the little sounds he makes in his sleep. His lips part with such perfection, it's hard to believe it's not choreographed. I'll be the first to admit I'm obsessed with Aang's mouth. The way it moves, the way it looks, and (I imagine) the way it tastes. It's the most subtle kind of tease; the sweetest kind of torture.

Aang is a restless sleeper. He squirms out of the blanket until only his feet are covered and turns over onto his stomach. I gulp back uncomfortable arousal as the contour of his ass makes itself visible. My hand reaches toward the blanket at his feet and pulls it up gently to his waist. Even covered up, it's tempting enough to make me second guess staying with him. I don't want to do anything rash. Though my lust for Aang is undeniable, the last thing I would ever want to do is take advantage of him. I want to feel his heart beat against mine, hear his breath rise and fall in synchronization with my thrusts, feel his sweat in the air around me.

_Wow, I'm a creep,_ I think to myself. I let out a small laugh. _When did I get so weird?_

My eyes start to get a bit heavy and, as much as I don't want to, I know I'll fall asleep soon. I yawn and lie down. With one last glance over, I close my eyes and let sleep take me into a different world; a perfect world, where he is mine.

* * *

I wake up alone. The sun is high in the sky, it's late. Of course, it's not that late, but, still, far too late for me to be just waking up. I sit up suddenly and take a second to look around. The tents are gone, and there seems to be no one around. I mean, it would be pretty easy for Katara, Aang, or Sokka to hide from me in the surrounding forest, but Appa? If his fat ass was anywhere within sight radius, I would've been able to see it.

_They left me! They fucking left me!_

My breath hitches and my body starts to shake as a million emotions, mostly various forms of anger, blur out any trace of rationality left in my brain that I could have used to help in this situation. At first I just kind of sit there, letting my temper boil in my head. And then I decide to go looking for them, give them a piece of my mind. Of course my mind doesn't realize that, if they did leave, they're most likely miles away by now. I stomp around the forest with such stupid determination, I almost forget what I'm mad about.

Then the panic sets in. I'm so far away from anything. I'm alone, miles out in the forest.

_I have to get back to the clearing_, I tell myself, _perhaps they'll come back for me_.

I turn back the way I remember coming from, but nothing looks familiar. In fact, the whole forest looks different. I wander that way, regardless, as I can't think of anything better to do. But, as I go on, I realize I definitely went the wrong way. The trees are denser here, and the air has a heavy mist about it that it didn't before. And when I try to go back to the less dense area, I can't find my way there. It seems as though the forest is changing to spite me; it's like the trees are rearranging themselves so I can't find my way back. I continue walking in the same direction, thinking that if I walk that way for long enough, I'll get somewhere. I don't make it very far before the sun sets.

The forest is unfriendly at night. The trees lurk over you with a certain malice and give you this feeling you can't shake and every noise you hear makes you feel something is surely stalking you. I'm suddenly glad to be a firebender. I light a small fire in my hand, just enough to see in front of me. This acts as a signal for my sudden and unexpected rescue.

"I found him! I found him!" the shout comes out of nowhere, but I know who it is without looking for the source of it. My heart jumps in my chest and I turn all around looking for Katara, and sure enough there she is. At least, I assume so, all I really see is a lantern in the distance bobbing toward me. And then there's another lantern and ball of flame joining that one. It doesn't take long for them to get to me. Aang runs up to me first, we both put our fires out and let the lanterns take over the lighting. As badly as I want to hug him, I don't. I stare at all of them flatly, expecting an explanation. But before I can demand one, Aang pulls me close to him and hugs me tightly.

"I was so worried," he whispers into my shoulder. I shudder when his breath hits me. Any anger I held melts away as I let myself fall deeper into his arms.

I feel Katara and Sokka staring at us, uncomfortable and probably a bit shocked, but I couldn't care less right now. In his arms I don't care about anything, it's like a different world.

Katara clears her throat loudly several times, and Aang lets go and blushes so wildly that you don't need to see him to know he's doing it. He's so adorable when he's embarrassed. I can't help the idiotic grin that spreads across my face or the warmth that passes through my body.

"Well… should we head back?" Sokka says hesitantly.

Aang walks ahead of the group and refuses to look at anything but the ground, causing him to run into a few trees along the way, bringing him further reason to be embarrassed. He radiates humiliation.

Katara and Sokka explain to me what happened, but I hear very little of it. The only thought in my head is that hug, and I will savor that moment. Nothing else matters right now.

**I love reviews from everyone and anyone. I accept anonymous reviews. Bitch me out, compliment me, point out all my grammatical errors, or just tell me what's on your mind. Updates on Sunday!**

**What Next?: I'm thinking about doing my next fic as one where Zuko is forceful. Do you think I should stick to the fluff, or would you like to see a kind of forced rape-ish ZukAang pairing?  
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	2. Roasted Duck

**Weekly updates? Screw the rules! **

**I was really bored last night so I decided to do my edits a little early and give you guys another chapter. This chapter is better than the first chapter. At least, in my opinion it is. Updates will still usually be on Sundays, I just had a little extra time this week.  
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**Disclaimer: Don't own, blah blah blah, never will, blah blah blah.  
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**Warning: Slash pairing, blah blah blah, take your homophobia somewhere else, blah blah blah.  
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**Enjoy!  
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Aang:

I have no idea why I did it. I mean, true, I was worried about Zuko, but I didn't need everyone else knowing that. It's been nearly a week since that hug, and I still feel tension around the camp. When we travel, when we eat dinner, when we gather. It's as if they're trying to avoid talking about it, but it's the only thing on their minds. Maybe it's just my imagination, but it seems everyone thinks that Zuko and I embracing is really just the start of our relationship. It also seems they know that I'm hoping they're right.

Who doesn't have a fantasy? It's in our nature to picture our lives with the person we most want to spend it with. It's in our nature to see muscly, shirtless men in our dreams. And who am I to argue with nature? So, for the most part, I enjoy an occasional imaginary kiss or a shirtless silhouette. Sometimes I might even fake something just to have an excuse to be with him more, but that's my fantasy, being with him. And it was so goddamn perfect before. Why do other people suddenly feel they have to interfere?

Toph is the worst. She wasn't in the forest that night because she would really be less than helpful looking for someone anywhere that the ground wasn't stone or hard earth. Since she wasn't around when it happened, she has taken it upon herself to follow me around night and day waiting for me to slip up again. When I'm around Zuko, she gets this look on her face like she's plotting something. It makes me extremely nervous.

Katara is quiet for the most part, which I think is strange because she typically deals with things head on. If she has an issue with something, she's not afraid to say it. I don't know though, maybe it's just too awkward for her because I liked her at one point. I think she knew that I did, and I'm sure she didn't return my feelings, but I can still see how it would be strange seeing me take interest in another guy. I never told her that the real reason I lost interest in her was because I couldn't feel anything for her anymore. It wasn't her disinterest that led me away, but mine. It's not that she's any less amazing, talented or gorgeous than she was before. I just found what I'm really after. We can't help who we're attracted to.

Of course, Sokka deals with things how he usually deals with things: by ignoring them. It's a possibility that he's not ignoring it, and he genuinely does not care. Either way, I'm grateful. While Toph, Katara, and Zuko change in front of me, I'm thoroughly glad to have one companion that stays the same.

Zuko smiles a lot more, and though Toph swears up and down that it's because he likes me, I suspect it's because he likes seeing me embarrassed. It could also be that he likes watching people freak out about things. That would explain why he's so much more umm… personal when we're hanging out. Not that I mind his occasional brushes against my arm, or when he "accidentally" trips and falls onto me, but I wish it was a real attraction, not just a want for a reaction from others.

I must say though, it gives me more to think about when… well, you know (I am a guy, after all.) And it's better than it's ever been. Imagining something like that is so much easier when you can create an image of them being into you as much as you're into them. Even though it's pretend, his attitude lately gives me a good idea what it would be like if he liked me too, and I let myself imagine him that way more often than I care to admit.

I just can't help it! Those strong arms, that chiseled jaw, and those legs, I've dreamed about those legs more times than I can count. He's a beacon for attention. Everything about him just says, "Look at me… You know you want me." And, well, he's not wrong. How many times is it just today that I've imagined myself splayed out underneath him, more than happy to be in such a vulnerable position? I've lost count.

"Hey Twinkletoes," The voice snaps me back to reality and I turn around, annoyed by the source of it. "Zuko wanted me to come get you, said he wanted to talk to you about something. I said I'd do it if I could listen in," she smiles wide at this last part.

"Tell him I don't feel well or something," I say, not expecting much, but hoping she'll at least consider listening to me. I was almost in his big, imaginary arms when she came and interrupted me.

"You know, being a messenger isn't really my style" she says with a sparkle in her eye. "Besides, why would I give up an opportunity to listen in on your conversation?"

"There isn't going to be a conversation."

"I hoped I wouldn't have to do this," she says with a sigh. The sigh is fake, she prefers doing it the "hard" way, always. I don't have much time to think that through though, the earth is quickly forming a cocoon around me, and before I know it I am hovering, encased in stone, toward Zuko's tent. There is no space for struggle, it's as if the stone was made to fit my body. I drop with a hard thunk onto the ground right in front of the destination.

I hear a grunt followed by a crack as a rock comes through the back of my cocoon and hits me with enough force to propel me into the tent and through the fabric on the other side. I land with a hard thud about ten feet away from the back of the tent.

Zuko steps through the hole and walks toward me in absolute silence.

I sit up steadily and rub my head with my hand, more out of humiliation than pain. "Guess I didn't make the smoothest landing," a nervous laugh escapes with these words. I feel so stupid, and his calmness isn't helping me.

He reaches me quickly, and, without saying a word, he bends to my level and scoops me into his arms in a bridal carry. I want to tell him to put me down, but something about being there in his arms makes me throw mine around his neck and accept it without question. He leans in close to my face and says simply, "Glad to see you could make it." I melt into him and his words, and I hate myself so much right now, but it feels so good. Could I be any more obvious? He walks back to the tent and puts me down faster than I'd like. I resist complaining as he fetches cups and pours tea into them.

I notice the candles set all around the tent and I gesture to them questioningly.

"Oh," he points at one of them, "you blew those out when you came through here." He smiles and goes around the room relighting them.

"Yeah, but why are they here in the first pla-"

"Tea?" he interrupts quickly as he brings both cups to the table and sits down on the cushion.

"Why do you have a table in your tent?" I ask, just noticing the rather large surface to my right. It seems a bit odd. We generally eat all together outside.

"I don't usually," he says without looking at me. His hand moves mechanically, stirring his tea.

"Well, why do you have one now?"

"Look, are you going to sit or not?" he sighs in frustration at my questioning tendencies. I understand his annoyance, but he shouldn't have invited me if he didn't want me to ask questions.

A smile creeps onto his face as I shuffle reluctantly over to the seat opposite him and plop down. I'm already here, I may as well figure out what the crazy man wants. Not that he's any crazier than me. After all, I'm the one attracted to him.

He pulls a dish of sliced up roast duck and dumplings out from a cubby under the table and places it in between the two of us. His hand goes back under the table and brings out two smaller plates and two pairs of chopsticks. He wanted me to come here so he could feed me? Odd… but I am hungry… and those dumplings look almost as good as he does right now.

"They're meatless," he gestures to the dumplings. I'm surprised he remembers that about me.

"You're not trying to poison me are you?" I joke as I sample a small bite. Even though they're meatless, they're still fire nation, so they have a bit of a kick to them. I take one with my chopsticks and set it on the plate in front of me.

He looks at me and responds, "How did you guess?"

He seems so serious and I notice he hasn't taken any onto his plate yet. I spit out the piece in my mouth on the plate and wipe my tongue frantically on the tablecloth. He shakes with laughter, and when he starts shrieking with it I know he was just kidding.

"Very funny," I say sarcastically and roll my eyes, but his glee is infectious and I can't help but smile. I've never seen him like this before. The most I've ever gotten out of him is a chuckle, but he's laughing so hard now he's having issues breathing.

It ends as suddenly as it began and he's back to being composed in an instant. I nearly crack-up at this, but changing quickly and dramatically has always been a well-known trait of Zuko's, so I'm a little used to it. I steal another dumpling and stuff down both quickly.

"How is it? Too Spicy?" he asks. I notice something unsure in his face, and it's strange to say, but he seems nervous.

"It's good," I say as I take another one.

"Slow down," he says with a slight chuckle as he reaches under the table again. "I don't want you to get full before dessert," he pulls out a small, covered plate and I know he can see the curiosity in my eyes. It's one thing for the main dish to be fire nation dumplings, but he knows I'm not terribly fond of fire nation desserts. So, if he wanted me to enjoy it, he must've made something else, but, as far as I know, he only knows how to make fire nation food.

His hand caresses the cover and I see a look in his eye that I recognize as pride. He smiles at me as he reveals the dessert. Egg custard tart!

"Where did you get that?" I ask without really meaning to. My stomach growls with a strong desperation. I think there's only one thing I've ever wanted to sink my teeth into more.

"I made it," he beams. "Took me a while to get it right," he shrugs as he cuts into the tart.

I lick my lips unconsciously and I've forgotten all about the dumplings. He takes out another plate and puts a slice of the tart on it. He pushes it over to me and I want so badly to eat it, but I can't help noticing that he hasn't eaten anything this entire time. "Are you going to eat anything?" I say, slightly concerned.

"Oh… umm,yes," he answers and takes some roast duck off of the center dish. It seems he forgot he laid food out for himself as well. I want to wonder what made him forget, but this custard just looks way too good right now. I take a bite and I'm in heaven. It's just as good as I remember. No wait it's… better. There's something else in it. I take another piece into my mouth and chew thoughtfully. I can't think of what it could be.

I look up at Zuko and ask, "What's in this?"

"You don't like it," it's not a question. He looks down and grumbles to himself. I catch a little bit about never adding extra ingredients, but most of it is indiscernible.

"No, that's not why I ask," I shake my head. "It's amazing."

"Really?" he asks with a bit of a light in his eye and a slightly higher voice than normal. He hides his happiness quickly and clears his throat, "It's just cinnamon."

I finish my piece and look at the rest, "Are you gonna have any?" I'm still chewing on my first piece, but if he's not going to eat it, I'll save it for later.

"No."

I take the plate and the covering and set it aside for when I leave.

"So," I say curiously, "if not to poison me, why did you ask me to come over here?" I pull a small chunk of custard pie out of my teeth with my tongue and enjoy the feeling it leaves as it slides down my throat.

"And here I am thinking I made it painfully obvious," he laughs a little and adds, "I was hoping I wouldn't even have to say it."

I'm slightly confused, but I'm used to that around Zuko. I wait for him to continue.

"I'm trying to seduce you," he says with a sly smile. Before I have time to think about it, or even have a reaction, he leans over the table and whispers in my ear, "Want to help me get rid of the peeping tom?" He gestures to a shadow that I didn't see before flickering against the candlelight. I know she was invited to listen, but does she really have to be so obvious about it?

He raises his eyebrows and nods, but I'm still in shock. I can't think of anything to say back. Is this all just another play, a skit put on to satiate the hungry ears of a bystander? Or did he really, really mean that he wants to seduce me? My mouth dries out at the possibility.

I don't get the chance to answer him before he puts his plan to get rid of Toph into action. It grows darker and darker in the tent as he blows out the candles one by one. All I can see is his shadow. He sits back down and, out of nowhere, starts moaning quietly. I can tell that he's not doing anything to himself, and I'm pretty sure I'd know if I was touching him.

"Mmm, Aang! Stop, we're not alone," his noises are pretty convincing. My legs start shaking and my eyes dart around nervously. Is this a joke? What if she runs back and tells Sokka and Katara? Was this his game plan all along? Oh, the humiliation! What will they say? Or will they stop talking to me altogether? I can't let this happen.

"What the hell are you doing?" I snap back to my senses and jump over the table to tackle him. The tea spills onto the floor, and the rest... well let's just say I'm wearing dinner. I cover his mouth with my hand to stifle the fake pleasure noises. Or maybe they're real noises. He probably gets a sick pleasure in watching me freak out.

His teeth sink into my middle finger enough to hurt, but not enough to draw blood. I yelp a little bit and my hand flinches off his mouth. I'm on the ground in a matter of minutes and he's on top of me, pinning my wrists to the ground.

"Oh yes Aang! Don't stop!" Shit, he's loud enough for the entire Earth Kingdom to hear him.

"Nothing's happening! I swear nothing is happening!" I yell just as loudly.

"Shh!" He puts one finger over my mouth to silence me. He's listening for something, but I don't know what. He turns to me suddenly, smiles and says, "We're alone."

In less than a millisecond his lips are on mine. His kiss is hard, but calm and experienced. He takes over my lips with ease and soon his tongue is demanding entrance. Considering the state of shock I'm in, it's pretty easy for him to force my jaw open to explore my mouth. I don't mind. I want to surrender to him. It takes me a bit to get over having dream boy's tongue in my mouth. I expect to wake up at any moment, but, while I'm already here in the dream, may as well have fun with it.

His hair is soft against my fingertips. All I want to do is pull him closer to me. I want to melt into his fiery heat and have it burn my doubts, my inhibitions away. He lifts my back up off the ground and kisses me deeply. Our tongues dance in unison, like they've been doing it they're whole lives. This is no first kiss. There's no awkwardness, no hesitation. It's perfection. I grab his hair in tight handfuls. There's no way I'll ever forget this moment, even if it's a dream. I want to take in everything, his scent, his taste, the way his eyelashes brush against my cheek when he goes in deeper. I want to hold on to this moment forever.

But he lets go. I feel myself groan a little bit as he removes my hands from his hair. He pushes himself into a sitting position on top of me and his arms twist over his head as he pulls his now food-covered shirt off. "That's never going to come out, is it?" he laughs and tosses the soiled fabric aside. I hear it hit the ground with a soft thud. I can't see anything, but the thought of it is enough to make me readjust myself underneath him.

He gives a light chuckle, "Do I really excite you that much?" I don't want to answer. His hands slip under my shirt and I see his teeth glint against the darkness as his lips reveal them in a sly smile. I can't help but grin back at him. Looks like I'm getting two desserts tonight.

**What's that I smell? A lemon in the next chapter, you say? Oh Lady Rainbow, you're just too much. You can thank me later :). I'll try to get it in early, but probably won't. Next week's looking a bit busy.  
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**Leave a review pointing out errors, critiques, and praises, or just tell me how your day's going. Either way, the review button's right below, no one's stopping you from pressing the shit out of it.  
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	3. Underneath

**I am late, yes, I know. This week has just been crazy, we started moving a lot earlier than I thought we would, and it was pure chaos. We didn't even get internet hooked up until this morning. Please don't be mad at me, I am _extremely _sorry. See I'm even using italics to tell you how sorry I am. Anyways, I found time (when I should be sleeping) to do some edits and write in some more detail. **

**This is my first time writing anything at all sexual. Tell me what you think. Hopefully, it's at least readable. And don't take this the wrong way, I'm not telling you to go easy on me because it's my first time, please, be blunt. I want to know exactly what you think, no matter how harsh. If you think I suck, say just that.  
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**Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: TLA. I would probably not be writing a fanfiction about it if I did.  
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**Warning: Zukaang slash. No critiques on the pairing, please.  
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Zuko:

I hardly notice the rain starting to sprinkle down as I run through the forest. The mud slaps against my bare feet as I move. His footsteps were the only thing guiding me, and they're gone now. I can barely see anything, I can't hear anything, he could be anywhere. I feel my feet slip out from under me and the ground comes up to meet me. Well, this is just great.

Why did he run out here just as we were about to get more physical? The answer: Katara. Now, in her defense, it wasn't _exactly_ her fault that there was a human-sized hole in the back of my tent. I probably should have covered it up. What can I say? I get stupid around Aang. But who the hell walks behind my tent (after sunset, mind you) to gather flowers? _Fucking_ _flowers_! Katara, that's who. We weren't really doing much anyways, but I think the straddling position kind of threw her off. Long story short: she saw us, wailed in surprise; he heard it, and then he bolted into the forest. And that's why I'm out here on the ground, shirtless, covered in mud. Thanks for that, Katara.

I pry myself from the dirt and press on. Leaves stir all around me as the wind grows stronger. The light sprinkle of rain quickly turns into a downpour worthy of a monsoon. Of all times for it to start pouring, it has to be now. If I weren't in such a panic, I might take time to laugh at my luck.

"Aang!" I shout, fully aware that it will not help. The rain is so loud that I can hardly hear myself. My feet carry me farther from the camp. Why do we keep setting up camp in forests? Note to self: tell Aang to land Appa in a nice, open field next time. The trees start to close in ominously around me. Would he go this far in?

And then I see him. Distorted as he is by the raindrops that flood my vision, it's definitely Aang slumped against that tree trunk. Relieved, I run to him at full speed. The branches form a sort of umbrella around him. Even when running away crying, he still keeps the state of mind to look for a dry seat. I smile at the thought.

His head doesn't lift from his knees when I touch his shoulder. I don't know what to do in this situation. It's hard to see him cry, but what do I say? Should I go with the cliché 'there,there'? Should I go for the clueless 'is something wrong'? Or maybe I should just make something up about how it will all be okay. Yeah, that will go over well, I don't even _really_ know what he's crying about (though I'm sure it has something to do with Katara seeing us). I let my hand lie on his shoulder awkwardly as I try and think of something.

"It's alright, you don't have to say anything," Aang mumbles to his knee. He never ceases to amaze me. What with his bending abilities, his drive, his sincerity, and now his ability to tell what I'm thinking? The boy is an ocean.

"I want to," I reply, breathless.

"What do you mean?" He looks up at me curiously. Those misty eyes are enough to make the strongest of men break. I look down at my feet; I can't see him like that.

A lump forms in my throat, which I quickly gulp down. "I don't know," I say honestly. What did I mean?

He lets out a light chuckle. "That's okay," his hand finds mine and squeezes it gently. Is _he_ trying to console _me _now? What the hell? I may be slightly confused, but I'm not the one who was crying into his own knee just a moment ago.

"Why did you run away?" I ask tentatively, not wanting to bring on a stronger bout of tears.

"Katara," he mutters, "she's… I don't think she likes seeing me with you." His hand slides off of mine and drops to his side.

"So?" I say under my breath. Who cares what she thinks?

"I don't want to lose her," he shakes his head at the thought and looks down sadly.

"Katara won't stop being friends with you just because we're together."

"What if she does?" he asks solemnly. "We've been through so much… she's like my sister. And Sokka," he continues, "he doesn't say it… but what if he disapproves too." His eyes bore into mine until all I can see are his teary brown irises. "Zuko," he whispers, "what if everyone leaves me?"

I grab his hand and weave our fingers together. "I won't," I assure him in a breathy whisper. As I say these words, I realize their truth. Now that I had him, I would never leave of my own accord. As long as he would have me, I would stay.

"But… Zuko," he says delicately. His voice trails off and he slumps down even further. He is conflicted. It must hurt to think you have to choose. But maybe for tonight. Maybe just this once. And then he will choose her in the morning. Just let me have him for tonight.

"Yes?" I lift his chin and look into his eyes. He's stopped crying. All his feelings are written across his face. Every bit of sadness, worry, confusion, angst, is etched into the curves of his cheekbones, the cracks on his lips, the arch of his eyebrows. And suddenly it's gone. He is blank.

He stutters out a shaky, "I don't know," and I can't help but chuckle at the role change.

I sweep a hand casually across his tear-stained cheek, "Forget her."

"If only that were possible," he gives a soft chuckle.

"Well, I can't get rid of the thought completely, but maybe," I pause to brush a stray eyelash of his face, "I could take your mind off of it for a while." I make a wish and blow the eyelash off of the tip of my finger. "If you'll allow me?"

Wet lips form an 'okay' silently before they're pushed against mine in a firm kiss. It's a mystery to me who initiated this. It feels like we just fell into each other, like both of us went in for it at the same time… or neither of us did. We separate for a moment as I remove his shirt and toss it aside. Our lips meet again heatedly. I move my hands to his neck and let them rest there, feeling his pulse against my palms. They trace the curve of his shoulder bone.

Down.

They move over the defined muscles of his torso, lingering momentarily to appreciate the raised buds on his chest.

Down.

They tremble on his stomach, shaking against his flawless skin.

Down.

"Wait," he whispers against my lips.

_Shit_, I think to myself, _he can't let me get that close and then tell me to wait. Tease. _I shoot him a glare and peel myself away, "what?" I can't stop the snap in my voice as I demand explanation.

"I've never," his voice trails off, leaving his statement hanging over me. It was a mistake to snap at him. When I look at his face, vulnerable - pure, I feel a small twinge of regret. His eyes find mine in a desperate attempt to reason things out. He has no idea what he's doing.

"That's fine," I let my head fall against his chest and breathe him in, "just do as much as you're comfortable with."

His throat quivers as he says, "what if I," he pauses. A gulp makes his Adam's apple bob up and down. He tries again, "what if I suck?"

"Mmm, I think I'd like that," I tease.

He gives an anxious smile.

"I'm not expecting you to be amazing. And you don't have to do anything you don't want to. Just let me take care of you, and then we'll see what happens," I say seriously.

He looks down at his feet.

"Come on, be confident in yourself. Just," I let out a sigh and continue, "trust me."

I study his lips, his eyes, for a sign, anything to tell me what to do next.

"Trust me," I repeat.

His lips move soundlessly, wordlessly. The breath from his nose is ragged and broken as he moves towards me. I feel his face brush against mine, his lips tug gently at my ear. "I do," he whispers shakily. His voice cracks against the words.

I fall into him. His breath covers my neck as he places gentle nips around my shoulders. My head lolls back, I let myself feel him. Inexperienced lips move over my shoulder, my throat, my chin. We embrace as our lips connect. Small hands grab softly at my hair, pulling me into him. Our tongues dance together, each of them exploring the other. His teeth clamp my lower lip gently as I pull away.

I let my hand trace down his skin gently, slowly. God, he's perfect. I reach his chest, his belly button, lower. His head gives a quick, nervous nod as I tug on his slacks questioningly. My hand pulls them down slowly. I can see his eyes studying my reaction. His whole body is quivering and in his eyes dwells a fear of judgment. I understand, being stark naked in front of someone can intimidating. You never know how they're going to react or what they may say to you.

But I can't say anything. There are no words in my vocabulary to describe the feeling of seeing him like that for the first time. His soul bared in front of me along with every inch of his skin; it's as though I'm in some sort of fantasy. My eyes explore his exposed skin with greed. I want all of him.

Aang is a vision. His torso moves repeatedly up and down, breath filling it then leaving through his flawless lips. In between his legs lies what I've dreamed about for so long. His cock is already fully erect, standing against the cool breeze. My heart is beating in my head. I never want to lose this image. I sink, kneeling, between his parted legs.

His hands are shaking as they cover mine and guide me carefully up his thighs. I reach for him and pump slowly. The skin of his cock is warm and wet with perspiration. Each time it pulses, I feel a surge of want, lust. I set a faster pace and place my mouth on the swollen tip. My tongue finds a rhythm in time with my hand. Soon he is thrusting into me, desperate to get more friction. My hands drop to his hips, holding him down as my mouth takes over completely.

I feel him tense against my hold. There is a slight hesitation in his breath as he resists thrusting into my mouth. His hips push against my palms as I take him in all the way. I let the tip rest at the back of my throat as I make wet circles around his shaft with my tongue. His moan is more satisfying than any other I've heard before. Spattered with pleasure, confusion, longing, need - he fits more feeling into a single noise than I've ever seen a man express in my entire life. His shamelessness is invigorating. If that moan was the last thing I heard, I would die a happy man.

My hands graze over him, up, letting him thrust into my mouth gently. It's exhilarating, really. I've never put faith in someone like that. I want to surrender to him. I want to pleasure him. More than anything, I want to show that I trust him as well. I let him grind into my mouth, assured that, even in a state of such delight, he won't cause me any pain.

His thrusts pick up, gentle still, but faster. Trembling hands reach for my head and weave their petite fingers through my hair. His pelvis rubs against my nose as he gyrates deep inside. When he arches his back, trembles, and cries out in a delightful mix of pleasure and frustration without releasing, I can tell he's resisting finishing.

Long fingers pull my hair taut in a desperate attempt to remove my head from his. He continues thrusting into the air long after I let him go.

"Don't be nervous," I hum into his leg. "I want to taste you."

"It's not that," his body shakes with bliss. He was extremely close. To resist that must have taken a lot of willpower.

"What, then?" His hands are still intertwined in my hair. I remove one and kiss its fingers lightly.

"You," he breathes. "What are you getting out of this?" He pushes himself into a sitting position.

"Well, that expression for one," I say, gesturing to his sweat-shined brow and his fixed-open jaw. Tempting doesn't even begin to describe him right now.

"Come on, seriously."

But I am being serious. I just want to take him all in. I want to love every part of him, taste every part of him. It's remarkable how much I have forgotten about myself, until he mentions it, that is. I am suddenly reminded of the ache between my legs and the raging discomfort of it all.

"I want you to feel what I feel," his hand grazes my thigh lovingly. "I know I might not have experience," his fingers press against the bulge in my pants, "but maybe..."

"You don't have to," I whisper. The words catch in my throat. I want so badly not to say them. 'Please, please Aang, let me do unspeakable things to that mouth' are the words that are really going through my mind. But I can't say that to him. With how hesitant he was earlier, I'm surprised he even brought it up.

"I want to," he says meekly. "Can I?"

His hands pull down my pants slowly, not wanting to wait for an answer. It's all I can do to force a nod. For months I've dreamed of being inside his parted lips, fucking them senseless. Of course, I couldn't do the latter his first time. Choking on a cock is not exactly what you want to remember when looking back on the day you gave your first blowjob. Unless, you know, you're _into _that sort of thing.

My slacks are off and his mouth is on me before I can even begin to comprehend the fact that this is happening. Fuck, this is happening. He kisses everywhere: the arches of my feet, the backs of my knees, the insides of my thighs. He pauses before going any further and looks at me with questioning eyes. I want to answer all of his questions, tell him exactly what to do, but my lips refuse to do anything except open and close stupidly.

He inhales deeply and brings his mouth in closer. Soft lips cover my shaft in nervous kisses. I feel his tongue poke out as he makes his way up to the tip. He works his tongue around it sloppily. His eyes lock with mine as he takes me into his mouth. The way his mouth moves around me as his eyes survey my reaction is more than enough to make up for his clumsy handiwork. He takes me in deeper.

Watching him is one of the most thrilling moments of my life. His movements are slow, untrained, but they have a certain fluidity to them that makes me want to watch his every motion. And those eyes, filled with so many doubts. "Am I doing this right?" they ask me tentatively.

"Yes," I answer their silent questions with a soft hiss. He smiles around me and adds his hands to the mix. They skim up my stomach, directly to my nipples. His fingers pinch at them and roll them around as his mouth sets a faster pace. The unsure eyes that looked up at me before are now far more confident. He takes me in further, nearly all the way. _Damn, this boy is good at everything_, I think to myself as I rest my hand on his head. My teeth sink into my lip as I hold back a moan.

Faster than a first timer really should be able to, he brings me into a state of complete ecstasy. I shudder with every touch he places on my body, every twitch of his delicious lips. My back arches off the ground, involuntarily. His hand leaves my chest and sets itself on taking care of more urgent matters. I see his backside moving vigorously as he thrusts into his own hand.

It's all too much, too fast. He's too hot, too perfect, too good at this. A quiver passes through me as I try to hold on for longer; it's much too early to let go of this moment. I must savor this. If he's right, and Katara does not want him to be with me, this may very well be the last time we're together like this. I hate to think he would choose her over me, but it's not as unlikely as I would prefer it to be. They're best friends. I'm just his fantasy. And now that he's had me… well, who knows if he'll even want me anymore?

He snaps me out of my thoughts with a twist of his head. Tender lips rise and fall over me, faster, harder. It's overwhelming. I can't hold it in any longer. Pleasure surges through me, I am elated, all worries are stripped from my mind for this one moment. My body thrashes about underneath him as I am completely overtaken. I can hear my own moans ringing in my ears. Sweet release beckons, and I am powerless to its appeal. His mouth fills with my seed; a thousand little parts of me swimming inside of him.

He coughs it out and spits it on the ground, mixing it with the dirt and the rain.

"Sorry," I say. Bliss surges through me still, I can't stop shaking.

He coughs out, "it's alright." He wipes his tongue on his hand. "I just didn't expect it to taste like that."

I manage a small laugh, "what did you expect it to taste like?"

"Sweet, I was hoping."

"Well," I sit up and flourish my hand in a sort of faux-apologetic gesture, "I apologize that my sperm wasn't to your liking." I reach for his member and stroke it hungrily. "Maybe you taste better."

I cover his ensuing moans with my mouth. They echo inside, swaying over my tongue, lingering in my throat. My biceps tense, faster. I swallow a moan, louder. Faster, louder, faster, louder, until all we are is movement and sound, meshed together in a medley of shameless euphoria. His sound rises to a crescendo as he climaxes on my hand. I release his lips from mine; he breathes the air around him hastily, like he hasn't breathed fresh air in ages. All I can hear are his short, hungry gasps and the steady beat of the rain behind us.

I lift my hand off of him, and up to my lips. He tastes salty, like most, but there's a definite sweetness to it that is unfamiliar to me.

"Zuko," he looks at me distastefully, "do you want me to throw up?"

"But you taste good," I laugh.

His musky scent is all around me, polluting the air with its intense aroma. I inhale deeply and fall onto his heaving chest. His heart beats erratically beneath my cheek. I find myself wishing I could be with him like this all the time: splayed out, rain pouring down, my head on his chest, legs intertwined, traces of him dripping off my fingers. Nothing in my life thus far could compare to this moment.

It's not until now that I realize how muddy we both are. His torso is caked with it. I like him dirty; it suits him, somehow. He doesn't seem to mind, or even notice, the dirt covering him.

Lazily, I drag a finger over his nipple and trace around it, revealing a white circle of skin in the dark mud. My mind wanders. What next? What of the aftermath? What will happen between Aang and Katara? It's sort of hypocritical. I tell him not to worry and then I worry.

"Zuko?" his breath hitches in his chest.

"Hmm?" I tilt my head to get a look at his face.

"What did you wish for?"

I'm confused now.

He must see that, because he immediately explains, "on the eyelash. When you blew it off your finger."

"Oh, that," I say, trying to think of something to avoid the topic, "you wouldn't want to hear it."

"Is it perverted?" he asks quickly.

"No!" I say defensively. It offends me slightly that his mind immediately jumps to 'pervert.' "It's… it's stupid."

"I like stupid things," he props himself up on his elbows and I fall into his lap.

"No you don't."

"I like you," he smiles.

"Ouch, that stings," I reply sarcastically.

"Come on… I really want to know."

I bite my lip nervously. It's so corny. "Fine," I sigh, "I wished that you didn't have to choose. That no one cared. The group could stick together. We'd all be," I pause for a second trying to find the right words, "at peace."

He lies back down on the ground. He is silent for a few minutes as he thinks. About what, I'm not quite sure, but I can tell that he is dwelling on something, turning it over and over in his mind. "Zuko?" he says finally.

"Yes?"

"I don't want to go back to camp tonight," his voice sounds misty, cracked.

I kiss his skin softly and murmur, "neither do I."

For one night we can forget that there's a world outside of this. Right now, it's just us and it feels like that's how it's meant to be. Everything about this feels so right. To think it could all be taken away in the morning is devastating. So I don't think about it. His heartbeat is my lullaby. I fall into a deep sleep and the even deeper delusion that, when it comes time to decide, he'll choose this world over the real one.

**Alright so tell me your thoughts, your critiques, what you would have done differently, or, you know, just say hi. Reviewing is caring :D.**

**I sincerely apologize for the temporary disappearance of this chapter. Thank you anonymous reviewer Morning Glory for pointing out that it was missing/same as chapter 4.  
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	4. Secrets

**Right on time. Shorter chapter... not really much to say about it. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: TLA.  
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**Warning: Zukaang pairing.  
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Aang:

The sun wakes me up earlier than I would like. Its rays glare down on me as a reminder that last night is over and will not come back, no matter how much I wish for it to. It is morning now, and there are things I must deal with. Katara. While facing her is the last thing I want to do, I know it has to be done. She deserves an explanation, perhaps an apology. But one should only apologize for their regrets. I regret nothing about last night. It was perfection. Last night was the best night of my life.

I look over to a pile of muddy, forgotten fabric next to my face. Is that what we'll have to wear back? Ughh. I pick up a piece carefully. What is that? Is that a shirt or a pair of pants? I can't tell.

Zuko stirs on my chest as I put the soiled cloth back where it was. His eyelids quiver slightly, but don't fully open. He's just as dirty as the clothing next to us. _So am I_, I think as I look down at myself. My body is absolutely caked with earth. Immediately, I want to get up and wash it off, but Zuko looks like an angel when he sleeps. Or a demon. Yes, a demon, he's too tempting to be an angel. An angel could never do what he does to me – make me feel the way that he makes me feel.

"Zuko," I whisper softly, reluctantly. I tousle his hair with my hand. It's not something I want to do, waking him up, but we have to get back before they find us like this. Better to sit them down and talk about it than to have them discover us together, naked, in a lover's embrace.

He groans, but does not open his eyes.

"Zuko," I try a little louder, "we have to go back."

"No we don't," he mumbles into my skin. "We could live here," he places a gentle kiss. The mud from my chest clings to his lips; he continues, "in the forest," another muddy kiss, "just us." He punctuates these words with a fiery look in his eyes. I don't recognize the man that looks at me. Certainly, he is still Zuko, still the same arrogant prince who followed me into the forest last night, but there is something different. Something almost… happy.

"Stop talking nonsense," I say as I attempt to clean off his lips to no avail. Every time I wipe his mouth on my skin, it just makes it muddier.

"Why don't you try cleaning my lips off with yours?" His gaze is mischievous and penetrating.

"Disgusting," I say, fully knowing it will motivate him to initiate a kiss. I can't help saying it though, it just comes out. I hate dirt.

"Come on," he croons as he kisses his way up my chest, "you don't want to share the earth with me?" His tongue darts out to taste the dirt, "It's not half bad, you know."

"Zuko, we have to get cleaned up and get back to camp. Stop trying to get a rise out of me," I say seriously.

"But I like you dirty. And I like it when you," his hand snakes between my legs and grabs at my length, "rise," he finishes with a whisper. He moves his hand up and down teasingly as he adds, "if I'm not allowed to try and get a rise out of you, what am I supposed to do with my morning?"

"Why don't you ever listen to me?" I ask, moaning slightly in spite of myself.

"Ah, but I do," he leans in and attacks my neck with his teeth. His hand sets a pace, slow, but firm.

"If you listened to me, we'd be clean by now." I can feel myself getting carried further and further away from reality. As much as I want to float off to dreamland in the arms of my rebel prince, I can't help that nagging voice in the back of my mind. We shouldn't be doing this right now.

"Not your words," he mumbles against my throat. "I listen to what you really want. Your words never reveal your true desires. Isn't this what you really want?"

"What if I said no?" I ask, but it's no use, I have already given myself away. Soft moans fall off my lips with every stroke and my neck aches for his bite.

"Then you'd be lying," he laughs and places a kiss on my neck. "But maybe you're right," he stops stroking and peels his face away from me, "we should get cleaned up and head back." The muscles in his legs flex as he stands and stretches, back arching, hands reaching toward the sun. He leans back down and scoops me into his arms.

"What are you doing?" I laugh and throw my arms around him. He walks forward at a brisk pace, silently. "Where are we going?" I ask, not wanting to take my eyes off of him to look for myself.

"You know what?" he asks.

"What?" I respond.

"You ask too many questions." I am flung from his arms, falling fast. A loud splash sounds out as water envelops me. I rise to the surface laughing. He is next to me in mere seconds, wrapping me back in his arms. I trace my hand along his forearm lazily. His hands graze over me, brushing off the earth. We sit there for what seems like hours, shedding our mud coats and basking in the sun's rays. It's amazing how well we fit together, there in the water – like I was made to live in his arms. I would love to get lost in his embrace.

"You're clean," he whispers in my ear. No matter how much my mind tells me to get out and get some clothes on, I can't bring myself to do it right now. I want to stay here.

"No, I'm sure you missed a spot," I smile.

"Where?" he asks. His hands travel slowly around my skin until they reach my chest. "Here?"

"No, not there," I laugh.

"Here?" he grabs my arms and pulls them back to inspect them for dirt.

"I don't think so."

"Well... I don't know," he says in a mock-contemplative tone. "Could you give me a hint?"

"Lower."

Large hands move over mine. "Here?" he asks as he grasps them.

I move his hands and mine to my stomach. "Lower."

They go down, controlled by him, to my thighs. So close. He leans in close to my ear. I gulp down as he whispers, "you're right. You are still dirty."

"Aang!" a voice yells. Katara. I look all around for her, but she isn't anywhere to be seen. She must be looking for us.

"Zuko!" Sokka. They're close.

_Shit._

"Wow, they're looking for me too," he smiles. "I thought they'd be too preoccupied with your disappearance to even remember that I left."

"Leave," I whisper.

"Why?"

"They're not going to find us like this." I try to pull away from him, but he refuses to let me go.

"Where should I go?" he laughs. I haven't the slightest clue why. This is _not_ amusing.

"Anywhere, just hide," I say, once again attempting to escape.

"One for the road?" he laughs and puckers his lips. Jesus, I don't have time for this. But I don't have time to argue with him either. I press my lips against his reluctantly, annoyed. He scampers off almost comically, and I can't help but watch him as he picks up his pants and disappears among the trees. I scramble towards the soiled fabric that was once my clothing and don it hastily.

"Over here!" I call, signaling my location.

Katara is the first to get to me. She runs toward me full speed and promptly pulls me into a firm, motherly hug. Her arms are so different from Zuko's, far less comforting. "Sorry we didn't come sooner," she mumbles. "We kind of got lost. I'm so sorry you had to sleep out here."

"Katara, you're getting all muddy," I whisper. She's squeezing me too tight for me to talk normally. She releases me and I release the breath in my lungs, gratefully. That girl has quite a grip.

"Oh, your clothes," her hand traces along a sleeve.

"There you are," Sokka says, breathless. He looks like he was dragged through hell and back; his hair is accessorized with twigs and leaves and his clothes are nearly as dirty as mine. "Where's Zuko?"

"I don't know," I lie. Well, it's kind of a lie. Right now, I actually don't know where he is.

"He's not with you?" Sokka asks, exasperated. I shake my head. "Damn it," he mutters. "Well, let's go look some more then." His legs wobble slightly as he takes a step forward. The day has not been kind to him so far.

"Maybe you should just go back," Katara suggests. "Aang and I will look for him." She gestures to me and I nod.

The look he gives Katara almost makes me regret agreeing with her. His eyes smolder with anger, he looks betrayed. "Katara, can we talk for a minute?" He pulls her away from me before he even finishes the question. I strain to hear what they're saying, but I can't understand any of it. After a while, she comes back to me, and he turns around and heads back the way he came.

"What was that all about?" I ask curiously.

"Nothing important." This is exactly what I expected for an answer, so I'm not too disappointed. "Well, actually, it is kind of important," she rubs the back of her head nervously.

"About last night?"

"Ummm… sort of," she sits down on the ground and gestures for me to do the same. I do, quickly. Though part of me wants to avoid the topic, a larger part of me is glad that she brought it up. I look at her expectantly.

"Alright, don't get me wrong, I'm still not _comfortable_ with this, but I don't want you to feel alienated either." She clears her throat before continuing, "If Zuko is what makes you happy, I want you to be happy… I just don't know if I can ever _see _you that happy without it making me… ummm, uneasy. Do you understand what I'm trying to tell you?"

"Ignorance is bliss. You don't want to know what's going on between us, but you think you can handle us being together if you don't have to see it."

"Exactly!" she sighs and puts her head on my shoulder. Her fingers weave with mine as she adds, "wow, that was easier than I thought. You're so understanding."

Understanding? I'm thrilled. She just gave me the okay to do whatever I want with Zuko. No more guilt, no more deciding.

"So," she jumps up and stretches, "let's go find Loverboy, shall we?" She offers me her hand and practically pulls my arm off as she hoists me off the ground. I wince and rub my arm, but decide not to say anything about her death grip.

She starts toward the left and I pull her back, gently. "He went this way," I say and point the opposite direction; the direction in which I saw him disappear.

"How do you - ?" I give her a look and she decides not to finish the question. "Right," she blushes and walks in the direction I've indicated. I follow.

"Zuko!" I yell. "So what did Sokka say exactly, then?" I ask Katara. I still don't get how he fits into the picture or why he was mad at her.

"He wants me to stay out of it. He thinks I'm causing unnecessary tension in the group. And he really doesn't want me to be alone with you. That's why he was angry. We agreed that he would accompany me to come find you to 'keep me in line.' He keeps telling me it's none of my business." She pauses and yells, "Zuko!" She continues, "but I can't shake the feeling that it is. Or that I want it to be. You are my business, you know? I have to know if you're okay, if you're safe, where you are, what you're doing," she pauses and looks at me. "Sounds crazy doesn't it?"

"No," I lie. My smile betrays me. "Maybe a little," I admit. "Zuko!"

She smiles, "no, a lot. I know it's crazy, but I care about you. The thing is I can't know everything you do with Zuko… I don't want to, but at the same time, I need to know. I need to know what's going on, but I don't want to. Does that make any sense?"

"Zuko!" the yell echoes off the rocks, coming right back to us. "No. No, it doesn't," I answer.

"Zuko, get your butt out here!" she screams.

"You called?" Several leaves drop from a nearby tree. I look up to see him lying on a branch, examining a flower. He drops with cat-like grace and hands me the plant. I can feel Katara roll her eyes next to me. I smile at the gesture and press the gift to my nose.

"Thanks," I look at him happily. We stand there for a moment or two, sharing secrets with our eyes.

"Come on, you two," Katara grabs me firmly and pulls me along toward camp. My head is swimming when we get back. With the okay from Katara, I am free to do whatever I like with him… to him. The possibilities are endless, but that doesn't stop me from trying to think up every single one of them. Romantic, amusing, and just plain twisted situations course through my mind until they are all I can see. However, none of them are as comforting or as arousing as the thought that I could have forever with him. An eternity with my prince.

**Oh my gosh, I am SO excited. I can't really tell you why, mostly because I don't want to yet, but it's going to be an awesome and terrible, and sad, and beautiful fic. I hope to get the first chapter of it out soon, but no guarantees.**

** Anyway, tell me what you think of this chapter/this story in the form of a review. I love hearing from people. Really, I do. I'm kind of a review whore. Although I would never threaten you with not updating or anything like that. Now, review this story or I'll go all Ozzy on you and bite your head off. Muahahahahaha! **

**Don't judge me... I get crazy on the weekends.**

**Currently seeking: Beta reader. I know that there is an entire section for beta-readers, but I would much rather have an editor who knows what they're getting into with my stories (yaoi, lemon, etc.) A lot of the betas on this site include specific paragraphs saying they DON'T want slash pairings or lemon, and the rare person you find that is fine with them, often has an account that hasn't been active for years. So anyways, if you're interested, pm me or leave a review stating your interest and I'll pm you. You don't need to be a "registered" beta on this site, either. Hopefully, you will only have to edit a little. I think the largest duty my beta would have is getting me through some extreme writer's block. Also helps if you're patient... I can get pretty annoying.  
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	5. Heat

**Couple hours late, but here it is. Not as edited as other chapters, thus probably not as good, due to the fact I was working on my next fiction and a one-shot this weekend. This is the final chapter of this fic, at least for now. I may decide to do a sequel or continue it eventually, but this was how I ended it originally, so for now this is the end. Thank you to all who reviewed or added to your alerts/favorites list, it really means a lot.**

**My next project is already started and the first chapter is up on this site and can be found on my profile. It is called "Of Love," if you don't mind AUs and think you can spare a moment, I would **_**really **_**appreciate it if you would read and review.  
**

**Chapter warnings: Yay for buttsex!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Avatar: TLA or its characters.**

**Without further ado…**

Zuko:

My world had been turned upside down in one day. It's amazing how much something can change in so little time. To think I am here, with him. It's too much to take in.

Unfortunately, we haven't had the best of luck with alone time in the past week since we've been together. It seems that every time we get a moment together, someone interrupts it for hunting and gathering, or starting a fire, or supper. But today we're alone right now, and I will make sure that does not change… somehow.

It's not that we don't try and make excuses, just that none of them ever work. I think the only way we would possibly be able to get rid of everyone is to tell them what we were actually planning on doing. Which I have no problem with, but Aang is more modest than that. Every time I suggest telling them outright that we need time together, he gets embarrassed and automatically changes the subject.

"So… how does this usually go?" he asks nervously.

"What do you mean?" I ask, dazed. His eyes make me confused.

"Wait, let me guess. Normally, you take an underage guy to a fancy restaurant, convince him to come home with you, get him drunk, and then you use some stupid signature line for the final move. Then boom… sex." He dwells a little too long on the last word, saying it as though it leaves a bad taste in his mouth.

"Why do you assume that I've even done it enough to have something I normally do?"

"Because it just wouldn't make sense if you didn't. You should have guys or girls or something clinging off of you at all times. Look at you!" He gestures wildly at me and then starts… oh god, the pacing.

"Aang, settle down," I say quickly. When he starts dwelling on something like this for too long, he never stops. To be completely honest, I did not come into his tent so he could pace and rant about my imagined previous sexual escapades.

"You do have a line though, don't you? Some big stupid line that makes whoever you want just melt into you," he asks. Following his pacing with my eyes is making me dizzy.

I decide not to answer, it will just make it worse.

"Well, right, you probably don't even need one," he snorts.

"Aang," I say, getting up and grabbing him by the arm. "The past isn't important. It doesn't matter, alright. We're together right now, and that is the only thing that should matter. Not what I've done, not what you've done. Just for right now, let's just forget, okay? Right now I only want to care about you."

"Is that your big line?" he asks. The bobbing of his adam's apple attracts my eye as he gulps down an emotion.

"I don't know. Did it work?"

"No," he breathes. A smile dances on his lips and his arms pull me close into a hug. We fall onto the ground together, rolling around and battling playfully for top position. I close my hands around his tiny wrists, pinning him and winning easily. His lips maneuver into a childish frown as he realizes his loss.

"You want to be on top? Fine," I smile and roll us over again so I am underneath him.

"Aaah, no!" he flips us over again, back to our original position.

"Then no sad faces," I laugh.

A small rustle at the entrance of the tent distracts my eye. Sokka steps in, looking down, "Hey Aang, Katara wants –" his eyes find mine, "Oh… um… hi Zuko."

I can't help the smile that cuts across my face or the laughter that follows. Aang struggles beneath me and easily knocks me over in my fit of laughter. I grip my stomach. Mirth is so painful sometimes.

"Yeah, just tell her I'm busy," Aang says, pushing Sokka gently out of the tent and tying the entrance flaps shut.

I catch my breath slowly and recover my normal demeanor. Even as Aang comes back over and sits down beside me, I am aware of Sokka's presence still outside the door.

"So, what do you want me to tell her you're doing?" Sokka yells, a little too loudly.

"Tell her Zuko's teaching me some bending."

I smile a little at this, "Oh, I'll teach you how to bend."

"Shut up," he whispers loudly as he gives me a warning look.

My grin grows larger and I pounce on him, taking a moment to readjust him so he is comfortable underneath me.

"Okay, I guess I'll just tell her that then!" Sokka yells. He's still here?

"Sokka?" I yell out to him.

"Yes?"

"Leave!"

I listen closely to his footsteps getting further and further away. When I can no longer hear them, I deem it safe to press our lips together heatedly. My tongue slips around inside of his mouth, exploring it as if I want to memorize everything about it. I linger on every small bump, every tiny crevice, assuring that every part of his mouth is touched with mine.

His hands are on my back, pushing me closer, forcing me into him. His hips grind against me slowly. We separate, just for a moment, as I pull our shirts off as quickly as I can manage.

Get closer to him. I have to get closer. Our chests touch as I push back against him, I revel in the feeling of his skin against mine.

More.

I draw away from him and let my hands travel of their own free will, down to a place only I know. He moans as I press on the bulge in his pants lightly. I cup it gently, causing him to arch into me. The fabric moves beneath my palm as I rub slowly. The arch in his back grows deeper with every carefully executed touch.

"Just take them off," he pleads.

"Oh you mean these?" I ask teasingly, tugging at his waistband and slipping both his underwear and his pants off in a swift motion.

"Better," he sighs. "Now yours," he says, grasping the top of them.

I put my hands over his and guide them slowly down. The cloth grazes over my skin, sending shivers through me. My pants are only down to my knees when his lips attack my neck suddenly and he pushes me over, lips still attached, into a new position. His hand flies behind him to remove my pants completely.

My head starts spinning when he bites down, wiggling my skin between his teeth. When did he get so confident? It's so different, so unlike him, and yet I find myself being more and more attracted to this side of him.

"There are so many things I want to do to you right now," I say, huskily.

"There are so many things I want you to do to me," he replies, voice barely above a whisper.

With a bit of effort, I am back on top, looking at his face with a smile on mine. "Like what?"

"Well, I-"

"Shh," I press a finger to his lips and slide my other hand under his. "Show me."

Our hands trace down his body, so slowly, grazing over the skin of his chest, his stomach, his hips. I feel the sharp angles his bones create, making a tightness in his young skin. His breath becomes ragged, his eyes intense, focused. I move down to view his most secret body part, our secret.

Softly, he grabs at my hair and, as gently as possible, pulls me closer to him. His scent teases my nostrils, sweat and musk, sex. I press my nose against him, relishing in his smell. Loving every second.

I bury myself, so close to him, yet it is never enough. Always the need to be closer, always the need for more and more. There is no too close, no too much and yet, at the same time, all of it is too much. Too much for me to believe, to handle, to ask of him. So I don't. I let him guide me, it assures me that this is what he wants. And I will do what he wants. Anything he wants.

I need to taste him. My lips slip around his shaft, taking him in quickly and suddenly. He trembles beneath me and moans out passionately. Music to my ears. Better than music, perfect actually, ridiculously perfect. Smaller grunts and groans fall from him as I move, pulling him further in, releasing him, tonguing his sensitive spots.

His hands pull mine to another area behind him. I grasp at the flesh immediately, using it to push him into me faster, harder. I feel the mounds tense and unclench in my hands, his pelvis bucking up gently. My fingers hone in on his deepest part. I want so badly to be inside of him, as close as possible, part of me within him. He lets my fingers trace over his entrance without protest.

The way he groans as my mouth leaves him almost makes me regret doing it. I coat my fingers with saliva and enter him. He adjusts himself, lifting his leg and resting it on my back, but makes no noise to indicate any discomfort. That changes as I add a second finger and scissor them. He gives a slight wince and tenses around me. The inside of him is hot, wet, soft. It stretches around my two digits, expanding to accommodate them. I add a third, pulling him further apart. I cringe at the small noises he makes as I stretch and scissor. The last thing I want to do is hurt him, but here I am, maiming him for my own selfish desires.

"Okay?" I ask.

"Yeah," he breathes. "I think I'll live."

He seems relaxed now. I pull my fingers out and pull his leg to my shoulder, positioning myself close to his entrance. I glance up at him questioningly and he nods in affirmation. He's letting me, he wants me to. I smile up at him and enter slowly. He tightens around me and his face pulls into a grimace. Every part of my mind wants to leave him, relieve him of this pain, but then there's my body. All my body wants is to keep going, press into him, bury myself inside of him and never leave.

"Try to loosen up. Relax," I tell him.

"Easy for you to say, you're used to it. You always have a gigantic stick up your ass." His mouth attempts a smile, but only gets about halfway there, leaving his face in a strange half-pain-ridden, half-happy expression.

"Glad to see you keep your sense of humor when you're in pain," I say as I push into him a bit further. His muscles flex around me, squeezing me in my most intimate places. If I hadn't had experience, I would definitely be thrusting wildly into him. The way he flexes and tightens around me is exquisite, almost too much to resist.

"Relax," I hiss. I can't guarantee his safety if he doesn't listen to this request. My mind is not exactly in control right now.

He breathes deeply and focuses on loosening his muscles. I feel them give a bit around me.

"That's right. Relax. Breathe," I sigh.

He clasps my hands and laces our fingers together. "Slowly," he tells me. Following his request, I move at a gradual pace. I let his expression tell me if I'm moving the right speed. The fingers in between mine tighten, crushing my palms into his, as I enter him fully, penetrating a deep part of him. I am only slightly aware of his fingernails digging into the backs of my hands as I draw out. I keep the pace slow, leaving time for him to get used to the foreign part inside of him. It's hard, but I manage to resist thrusting into that flawless body.

He cries out and automatically I go to pull out, thinking I hurt him. I am still about halfway inside of him when he shouts "No!" and pushes himself down fast, so I'm fully inside him again. He yells and tenses tight around me. An involuntary moan escapes me and I instantly hate myself for getting pleasure from his pain, even if it was technically self-inflicted.

"Are you okay?" I ask frantically, not daring to pull out for fear that he'll do the same thing again.

"I'm... fine," he winces between the words causing me to doubt his reassurance. Why the hell did he do that? "Just stay inside, alright. Don't move."

We stay like that for a little bit. Still, unmoving. And then his hips are moving against mine, grinding skin against skin. I don't know what he's doing, but the way it feels almost makes me not care. His face turns curious as he moves this way and that, letting me feel every part of his inside. He cries out again, like before, and I realize now that it was not in pain, but in pleasure.

"There. What is that?" he pants.

"This?" I ask slyly, grinding into the spot, eliciting another moan.

"Yes, that," he groans.

I lean as close as I can. "A gay man's worst kept secret," I whisper, thrusting into it gently.

The bout of moaning that follows grows so loud that I would be extremely surprised if there was one person in the camp that didn't hear it. I can't separate them any more, our moans are just one loud noise. The source of each is unknown to me, they could all be his, they could all be mine, an even mix of both, I can't tell.

And then he is close, arching into me somehow. Sitting on top of me, legs outside of mine, rocking his entire body against me. I rock with him, assuring that I thrust directly into that bundle of nerves every time. We swallow each other's moans as our tongues dance together in a deep kiss. So deep. Deep inside his mouth, deep inside him.

I let my hands travel up his back and feel the angles of his shoulder blades, the curve of his spine, the intensity of his muscles. He releases my lips and his head snaps up as he moans louder than before.

"Close," he says shakily, his bottom lip quivering with pleasure.

I speed up, thrusting now, pummeling into him. Buried completely inside his heat. And what a wonderful feeling. I lean back slightly and take my weight onto my hands as I go into him rapidly, accelerating with every flick of my hips. Euphoria settles in fast. I can think of nothing else as I move in and out of him, he has taken away my mind, and now both my mind and my body are his for these few moments. And he gives both of them what no one besides him will ever give me again. We are connected, one in this moment. He is part of me, and I, as cheesy as it sounds, am part of him.

He finishes first, spasming around me. I thrust into him once more and I'm done, coming with him, inside him. The feeling of release washes over me, I pull him close again as I fill him up. We fall together, panting, in a heap, his head on my chest. I pull out of him and adjust my legs underneath him.

He kisses his way up to my face and places a small, chaste kiss on my cheek. He nuzzles against my neck, contentedly. "You know, with all these people around, we won't get to do this very often," he mumbles as he draws lines in the sweat caking my chest.

"When you defeat my father, and I become Fire Lord, we can be together any time we want to. No more running and camping every which place. We'll have the whole palace," he looks up at me happily as I add, "not to mention, a huge bed."

He smiles and snuggles up to my chest. "We should really get cleaned up," he observes.

"Probably," I agree.

Neither of us move a muscle for the rest of the night. We talk about everything, him, me, life. We look toward the future with hopeful eyes and crazy delusions of what life will be like for us, together. He falls asleep on me, still unclean. I hold him close through the night, hoping that no one comes to bother us again. He sleeps soundly, peacefully, as my head races with thoughts of him, thoughts of us.

"Zuko," he whispers, about two hours after he dozed off. His eyes don't open and I am inclined to believe he is talking in his sleep.

I answer him anyways. "What?"

"Don't tell Zuko yet," he murmurs nonsensically.

"What shouldn't I tell Zuko?" I press, slightly amused by the sleep-talking. I've never been with a sleep talker before.

"Don't tell him that I love him, not yet."

"Don't worry, I won't tell him," I whisper back, grinning.

"Promise?" he grumbles.

"Cross my heart."

He rambles about other things, but none of them make any sense. I wonder what he is dreaming about. Soon he is silent again, allowing me to truly think about what he said. He loves me. Loves. _Loves._ The word sticks in my head all night. I roll it over on my tongue, testing the way it sounds. Love. The sun is rising in the sky, lighting up the inside of the tent, before I get used to the way it feels.

"Don't tell Aang yet," I whisper, "but I think I love him too." And though I can't quite see his face, I swear I feel him smile against me.

**I know, cheesiest ending ever. Tell me what you thought, preferably in review form, but I also enjoy stuffed animals and dairy products. Just kidding, but seriously, leave a review. See you around!**


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